


I Wrote a Song for the Samurai that Saved My Life

by SelSpeaks



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Editing what editing, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, POV reader doesnt know jack about other cultures, POV reader is adult woman, PTSD, Romance, Whump, shootout
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelSpeaks/pseuds/SelSpeaks
Summary: "You stared at the back of his head, at his long black hair flying behind him. You watched his feet move swiftly and easily in strange wooden sandals. You looked over his long, flowing clothing and took note of the sword in his spare hand. You watched him for a long time, city racing past in a blur as you ran together. "[Goemon x Reader; some depictions of gun violence and gore. Maybe NSFW later on.]
Relationships: Goemon Ishikawa XIII/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. I Was Crying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Once again, I don't do any editing. I just word vomit and hit post.]

The first time you saw him, you were crying.

You had been standing outside the space museum in Houston, squinting at your phone against the harsh sunlight, when you heard the distinct squeal of a car spinning out. Police sirens wailed a second later, followed by crunching metal. You looked up at the noise without thinking, and in front of you were four police cars in various states of wreck. Down the road, the sound of an engine roared and faint laughter trailed behind it. Two more police cars swerved around the wreck and went in the direction of the noise. You knew you should move, check on the officers in front of you that could be injured, but you were stuck frozen in place, phone in hand, and absentmindedly hit ‘record’. You held your phone up and stared at the scene unfolding in front of you, watching as officers helped one another out of their vehicles and talking into radios. Others around you were filming as well, but nobody had moved to help. You blinked and started forward into the street.

It was then that the gunshots started. You only heard them faintly at first, somewhere around the corner, but soon it was clear that the gunfire was moving closer. You turned your head to the side, towards the sound, and saw a bright yellow car barreling straight toward you. You heard a scream from somewhere- was that you? Did you scream? Your eyes shut and you braced yourself to be hit. You waited, heartbeat rocking your body and deafening your ears. Nothing hit you.

“Hey, hey lady! Miss! Are you alright?!” A man’s voice was yelling. Someone grabbed your shoulders. The strong smell of aftershave made you nearly gag.

You opened your eyes.

“Miss, hey, you’re okay aren’t you? I don’t think we hit y-”

There was a man in front of you, holding you, a look of concern on his face. Your heartbeat dampened his words, but you could see him clearly. More gunshots echoed. He had such a kind expression on his face for a moment, but then his eyes went wide and his mouth gaped open. His hands fell from your shoulders and he crumpled to the ground in front of you. You looked down and saw red spilling from his abdomen. Sirens screamed. 

“Jesus christ! Fuck! Lady get  _ down _ would ya?!” 

This was a different voice, a rougher voice. A body slammed into you and you felt your head hit asphalt. Tears welled up in your eyes and blurred your vision. The smell of ash and gunpowder filled your nose and the weight on top of you was suffocating. You tried to get up but you couldn’t move the person on top of you even an inch. You blinked away tears and tried to make sense of your surroundings.  _ I’m on the ground? I’m okay, I’m okay. I can’t get up, why can’t I get up, I need to get up! There’s someone on me, the man from earlier? No, he was shot. Oh god, oh my god a man was shot in front of me oh my god I’m going to die I’m- _

“Look lady, you need to calm down. I know that’s kinda tough right now but just take some deep breaths, okay? My buddy there is real hurt and I gotta get him out of here, so I’m gonna go now.”

“No, please no. Please don’t go I’m-” It was your voice, but you didn’t feel yourself talking.

“Hey, look, you’re gonna be fine. I’ve got someone who’s gonna get you outta here safe and sound. Just stick with him and you’ll be okay.”

And then the weight was gone and the sunlight was back, blinding you. You were alone in the street, sirens echoing off buildings and gunfire pattering. You were alone and you were trembling, sobbing, and that’s when you first saw him. 

He held a hand down to you without a word and, when you didnt move, grabbed your arm and pulled you up. You managed to wipe your face off with your free hand before he started pulling you away from the violence. He walked slowly at first, looking back at you, then with a grunt he was pulling you into a full sprint. You stared at the back of his head, at his long black hair flying behind him. You watched his feet move swiftly and easily in strange wooden sandals. You looked over his long, flowing clothing and took note of the sword in his spare hand. You watched him for a long time, city racing past in a blur as you ran together. Your lungs burned and you tripped. He stopped.

“We can rest here. Can you walk a little further?”

His voice was so clear to you, away from the sirens. Earlier, everything had been muffled and confusing. This man’s voice, now, was crisp and sparkling. It was deep and serious, but you felt warm when he spoke.  _ Safe?  _ You took a moment to catch your breath before speaking. 

“That man back there...He was shot right? Is he okay? Is he…?”

“He will not die that easily, that I’m sure of. Let’s go.”

His grasp on your arm was softer now as he led you into a grimy alleyway. The ground was spattered in slime and broken glass, and the scent of garbage filled the area. Even the glaring sunlight barely lit it. The smallest part of your brain told you that following a man with a weapon into this environment was just  _ asking _ for trouble, but your legs followed and your mouth carried on without a care.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt? What about those other guys? Shouldn’t we call someone-”

“The police are already there. In here. Quickly.”

The man led you through a nearly invisible door and into a dark, musty hallway. The contrast from the bright outdoors to this dim hall was drastic, and your eyes were slow to adjust. You followed him blindly up three flights of stairs before he stopped in front of an apartment door and unlocked it.

“You’ll be safe in here. Don’t leave. I’ll come back later.”

Before you could protest, he had pushed you inside and closed the door. You heard two distinct clicks and the sound of wood sandals moving quickly away. Once again, you were alone. Dread pooled in your stomach as you realized the situation. Had you really just followed an armed stranger into a random apartment without your cell phone?  _ Wait, shit, where’s my phone?! _ You patted each of your pockets and discovered your phone was not on your person at all. You couldn’t call for help. You were trapped here.

You took a few steps into the apartment and flicked the first light switch you found. A living room was illuminated with dim yellow light. In it was a torn couch, covered in stains, papers, and full of...holes? In front of it was a brown coffee table, and in the corner was a mismatched armchair seemingly left in a reclining position. An old box television sat on the ground across from the couch. You turned it on and let whatever station it was left on play. 

Then, you sat on the floor, curled into a ball, and cried. 


	2. I Was Sick

Your eyes opened to the sound of a loud yell. Had you fallen asleep? Your head was pounding and your eyes ached. Behind you somewhere, someone was swearing.

“CraaaAAAAAAP. Crap crap crap! Fuck!” The voice was a little familiar. Who was that?

“Oh my god, would ya shut up already? I’m doing my best here-” A rougher one. A meaner one.

“It HURTS, okay? It really fucking hurts! I’m allowed to cuss in my own home when I’ve just been god damn  _ shot _ , Jigen.”

“Look, we’ve all been shot before and I know it sucks! But you need to  _ shut up _ for a second or-”

“She’s awake.” You knew that one. Absolutely. 

Silence filled the area and you uncurled your body. Every part of you was stiff, and your legs were more sore than you’d remembered. You tried to speak but your voice fell. You cleared your throat and tried again.

“Um...hello? Is someone there?” You winced at yourself after saying it.  _ Of course someone is there, why did you ask that? _

“Yeah, we’re in here, lady! In the bathroom! But it’s kinda ugly in here so you might wanna stay put- OWWWWWW GOD FUCKING DAMNIT JIGEN”

A low chuckle bounced into the living room and you looked toward the front door. You could probably make a run for it if you got up quietly. They seemed preoccupied. Before you moved, though, the sound of wood on wood started towards you. You looked up.

There he was, the Samurai. His hair was a mess and his clothing was barely covering him with how torn it was. There was something red on his cheek, and he had scratches on his exposed skin. You looked at him, mouth open, and tried to blink. Instead, your heart jumped to life.

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

You nodded, still staring.

“Where are you hurt? I’ll treat it.”

“I...head…?”

His brown eyes stared back at you for a moment, and his expression became confused. You pointed at the back of your head and finally blinked.

“I hit the back of my head, I think.”

He nodded and moved towards you. He kneeled next to you and eyed you up and down before waving a hand in front of your face.

“I- what?” 

“Is your vision impared? Your eyes seem unfocused. You might have a concussion.”

He was so close to you. You could feel his body heat next to you, hear his breathing. You noticed that he had very broad shoulders, and strong looking arms. Your eyes slid down his body to his legs, then back up to his muscular chest, before looking back at his face. He locked eyes with you for a moment and huffed. The samurai turned his head away from you and called out towards the bathroom.

“Lupin! She has a concussion!” 

“What?! Are you serious? How the hell did THAT happen?” 

There was clattering and sounds of protest before a lanky man stormed into the living room. He was wearing blue and white boxer shorts and  _ definitely _ needed to go to a hospital. His abdomen was bright red and wet, and there were bandages placed all around his body. It was the man from earlier, the one who was shot in front of you. The images of him falling to the ground flashed before your eyes and you gagged. 

“Whoa, lady, you’re really not okay, huh? You said you have a concussion?” He was walking- or rather, limping- towards you and the samurai. The tangy scent of copper flooded your nose and your stomach churned. 

“No, no I didn't-”

“She said she hit the back of her head.” The Samurai’s voice rumbled next to you, still calm. 

“Yeah, yeah….Well, you’re not looking so hot. Are you gonna puke on my floor?” You didn’t hear any humor in the question, but it wasn’t angry either. 

“Lupin!”

“What? What! It’s a valid question! Look at her! Jigen, c’mere and look at this woman!”

Finally, the last man entered the room. He looked the best out of all of them, his suit a bit wrinkled but not torn as far as you could see. He wore a large hat that covered his eyes, and he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed once he was in the room.

“Lupin, will you get off your shit and sit down already? I’m not done sewing you up yet.” His words were slow and tired. 

“In a second, Jigen. I want you to look at her first.” The man- Lupin?- pointed at you. The one in the hat- Jigen, you assumed- sighed.

“I’m not a god damn  _ doctor _ -”

“She has a  _ concussion _ though and she’s been sleeping all day-”

“And why the hell is that MY problem anyway?”

“Well tell me how the hell she  _ got _ that concussion, dear Jigen? Was it from someone  _ pushing her onto the road _ , perhaps?”

The men were glaring at each other with scowls. The air was full of sweat and blood and ash. Your stomach churned again.

“Um, excuse me?” You squeaked out. “Excuse me, but I think I’m gonna be sick. Um, sorry, where’s the bathroom?” You covered your mouth with your hand and gagged again. You tried to stand but your legs buckled and dizziness overtook your head. A pair of strong arms grabbed you before you fell.

“Do  _ not _ let her spew in here,” Jigen said. You gagged again, throat sour.

“I’ve got it.”

The samurai lifted you up by your armpits and trotted to the bathroom, placing you down in front of the toilet. The floor was covered in blood and the countertop of the sink had stained bullets on top. You leaned over and puked. You felt your hair being pulled back as you continued to vomit. 

“I’ll get you water when you’re...done.” The Samurai said. You nodded quickly.

He held your hair and rubbed your back awkwardly for the next hour, until you told him in a shaky voice that you thought you were okay. He left for a moment and came back with water and mouthwash. After you cleaned up, you looked at him again and noticed he hadn’t done anything for himself yet. His clothes were still torn, blood still dried on his face. 

“You’re staying in my bed tonight. I’ll wake you every few hours. I’ll take you there now.”

“Um, mister?”

He raised an eyebrow at you but said nothing.

“Um, right. So. Are you, like, okay…?” Your voice trailed off and you stared at his eyes. You knew you were looking too long, that you should break away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“My injuries are minor. You should be more concerned for yourself right now.” 

With that he turned away and walked down a short hallway and into a room. You followed.  _ This room is no bigger than a walk-in closet _ , you thought. There was a pillow and mat on the floor, with a blanket folded neatly next to it. It looked to be the size and shape of a sleeping bag. There was a small backpack in one corner and a short stack of books in the other. A candle sat next to the mat. 

“This....is your room?” Sadness filled your chest for a moment. Your room at home was much larger than this, with a full bed, dresser, nightstand...did he really live like this?

“Yes. You’ll have the bed tonight, I don’t need it. Feel free to read if you’d like. I do need to get changed, though.”

Your face went hot and you started to back out of the room, but the samurai had already begun undressing facing away from you. You gasped and covered your face, but looked between your fingers. Under his...robe? There was a loincloth in place of underwear. You had never seen a real person wear that before, and the curiosity led you to lower your hands. It didn’t cover him like normal underwear did, and his butt was in full view. You couldn’t look away.

“I don’t mind if you watch, but it  _ is _ rather rude.” He said.

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry. It’s just. What, um what are you wearing…?”

He paused, and chuckled. “You’re asking about my clothing?”

You nodded, then realized he wasn’t looking at you. Your face got hotter. “Yeah, your clothes. They’re weird.”

“Hakama,” he said, as he continued undressing. This time, you did look away.

“What?” You asked.

“It’s a hakama. Do you know any japanese clothing? It’s similar to...kimono?”

“Oh,” you said flatly. “I think I know what a kimono is. Why are you wearing it?”

“I come from a long line of samurai, it’s traditional. And comfortable.”

You said nothing and listened to the sound of cloth rustling. Your mind drifted back to what was  _ underneath _ the hakama, and you briefly considered asking about that, too. You shook your head and decided against it. 

“You can look. It’s done. You should get some rest.”

You turned back around and saw the samurai sitting cross legged next to the mat, fresh clothing resting over his body. His chest was still exposed, and you pointedly looked away. He gestured to the mat in front of him.

“Um...are you just going to watch me sleep?” You shifted your weight uncomfortably at the thought.

“Yes, to ensure you do not enter a coma and die.”

A pause.

“Are you going to be sick again?”

“No, no, it’s just…” You looked down at yourself. Your clothing was crumpled and dirty, with a few tears along the hems. The samurai followed your line of sight and sighed before rising swiftly. He left the room without a word and returned a moment later with a large T-shirt.

“This should be satisfactory. Now get changed and rest. I’ll close my eyes.”

He sat back down and closed both of his eyes. It almost looked as if he were sleeping. You changed into the shirt- it said “federal booby inspector” in bright pink lettering- and tried to comb your hair with your fingers. Your eyes kept flickering back of the samurai, and once or twice you thought you saw one of his eyes cracked open. You settled onto the mat and pulled the blanket over yourself. It was surprisingly comfortable. 

“Hey, mister samurai?”

He grunted in reply.

“Thank you for helping me today.”

There was silence, except for both of you breathing softly. 

“Hey, mister samurai?”

“What.” He sounded a bit annoyed, now.

“What’s your name?”

Again, there was silence.  _ Did I make him mad somehow? Did he fall asleep? _

“My name...is Goemon Ishikawa the Thirteenth. You may call me Goemon.” 

_ Goemon. _ His name floated through your mind and you drifted into a fitful sleep. You dreamt of samurai, ninja, and astronauts. 


	3. I Was Scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think I edit before posting you would be wrong. Uh...yeah so the semester of uni just ended and I'm once again simping for Goemon.

You woke up to the sound of a crash. Your eyes flashed open and you looked around at your surroundings. You were alone. Next to you, folded neatly on the floor, was a pile of clothing and a small note. 

“ _ Breakfast at nine, if you’re awake. Do not leave.” _

_ Don’t leave, as in this room? Or the apartment? _ Your thoughts were interrupted by another crash and loud, obnoxious laughter. You looked around for a clock and saw none. You opted to at least get dressed as you pondered the note. 

The clothing fit surprisingly well, although it wouldn’t have been anything you’d picked out yourself. But it was clean, and it was here, and it fit, so you put it on. You ran your fingers through your hair and gave up after a few unsuccessful passes. The smell of coffee wafted into the room.  _ If there’s coffee, there’s probably breakfast, right?  _ You cracked the door open a small amount and tried to peek into the hallway. As you glanced, you caught sight of Goemon turning the corner. You pulled the door closed quickly. A moment later, he entered.

“You’re awake.”

“Um...yes. Thank you for the clothes.”

He looked at you, glancing up and down. On his stone face you caught the hint of a smile.

“I have a hairbrush. Breakfast is ready.”

And with that, he turned and walked back down the hall. You hesitated to follow, memories of the day before flashing through your mind. Sirens. Blood. Vomit.  _ Gunshots _ . Suddenly the reality of your situation hit, and you felt the first twinge of panic in your chest. How did you end up in an unknown place with three dangerous men? Why didn’t the police catch them? Where was your phone? What were they going to do with you? You suddenly wanted nothing more than to stay in the room and hide under the warm blanket.

“You should hurry if you want any food.” Goemon’s voice came from ahead. He didn’t  _ sound _ like he would hurt you. In fact, he’d been helping you. Maybe he was a good type of bad man. You shuffled out into the hall and slowly made your way towards his voice. 

You found yourself in the living room, more full of life than the day before. The curtains were pulled open and natural light poured into the room. The television was on to local news, volume a little too loud. The floor was covered with papers and metal parts and a handful of mugs and plates. Past the living room, you could see a small kitchen with a round table. Goemon sat there, drinking out of a mug. Next to him was the man from yesterday- Lupin- the one who had been shot. 

_ The one who had been shot right in front of you, eyes going wide and mouth falling open, blood pooling out- _

“Hey, kid,” a gruff voice pulled you out of your head. “You gonna eat or what?” 

You turned and saw the last man. He stood at the stove with a bright pink apron on, hair pulled into a small ponytail. Somehow, his adorable attire did nothing to dampen his terrifying aura. 

“Jigen, c’mon, I’m hungry! Is it done yet?” Lupin’s voice was whiny. How was he so lively after yesterday? 

“Ya ever hear of ladies first? Just wait a minute.”

You looked between the two bickering men before catching the eye of Goemon, sitting quietly next to the last open seat at the table. He flicked his eyes towards it. You went to the table and awkwardly sat. The chair wobbled. Jigen started placing down plates full of toast, eggs, bacon, and some things you were less sure about. Was that...soup? Lupin piled his plate full and began eating in a way that had you both scared and in awe. The food practically disappeared as soon as his fork touched it. 

“I did tell you to hurry,” Goemon’s voice softly said next to you. He helped himself to whatever the soup was. 

“Hey, miss,” Lupin said between bites. “Aren’t you gonna eat? Jigen’s a pretty good cook. You should eat! Catch!” 

A piece of toast flew towards you. You flinched, but the bread didn’t hit. You opened your eyes and saw Goemon holding it. His glare at Lupin could have probably killed a man. You couldn’t help the shudder that went down your back. He placed the toast in front of you and resumed eating. Finally, there was quiet save for the television in the living room. You took a bite. Jigen placed a mug of hot coffee in front of you before shuffling off. 

Every few bites, your eyes wandered to the man next to you. His clothing was the same as the night before, his chest exposed. His face looked peaceful as he ate. It was hard to believe this same man had just given a look so dark moments before. 

_ His clothes were torn last night. He was so scratched up. There was blood on his face- _

You looked more openly now. His face was unscratched. His arms and chest, however, were covered in small bandages.  _ But his face had blood on it yesterday. _

You turned your gaze across the table towards Lupin. He was wearing a loose white shirt and enthusiastically shoveling food into his mouth while flicking through a phone. He seemed so lighthearted and happy.  _ He was covered in blood, he was yelling, his eyes had gone wide and he had crumpled down to the asphalt- _

“Hey, miss, are you alright there? I know I’m handsome and all, but you don’t have to stare like that.” 

You realized you had been holding the toast in your hand, halfway to your mouth, staring unblinking at Lupin. You shook your head and looked down. 

“Uh, Lupin,” Jigen’s voice called out from the other room. “We got a little problem here. Come look at this.”

Lupin stood up and made his way out of the kitchen. You could see, now, that his leg was wrapped and he was walking with a heavy limp. Goemon stood and followed. You sat alone awkwardly before going in behind them. Someone turned up the volume on the tv even more. 

“-reported  _ missing _ after a collision caused by the infamous Lupin the Third, international thief. Footage from the women’s cell phone left at the scene was recovered and has been released by the ICPO. Some of this footage may be disturbing to viewers.”

The news showed a shaky video. It was the police crash from yesterday, followed by a scream and the squeal of tires. The video fell to the ground as low quality gunshots rang out. To the side, you saw yourself hit the ground. The phone shifted and a few seconds later you could make out Goemon pulling you away down the road. 

“Police are asking for  _ any _ information to be reported immediately. They announced their first priority is to rescue the kidnapped woman from these dangerous criminals. If you have any information, please call…” 

The tv was muted and silence hung in the air. You looked at the backs of the three men- were they really your kidnappers? Why did they take you? None of them moved and you felt your heart rate pick up.  _ Gunshots. The smell of ash and copper. Eyes wide, falling in front of you, head hitting asphalt and tears and sirens and-  _ You couldn’t breathe. Your chest tightened. You felt yourself taking a quiet step backwards when Jigen’s voice stopped you. 

“Well. Fuck.”


End file.
